


Shadows of the Truth

by Savannah_rea



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Attempted Murder, Bottom Killua Zoldyck, Dark, Drama, Eventual Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Killugon - Freeform, M/M, Murder Mystery, Psychological Drama, Savannah Rea, Smut, Top Gon Freecs, leopika - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27248035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savannah_rea/pseuds/Savannah_rea
Summary: (And A Silhouette of Lies)Padokea is a small town. You had the local restaurant where everyone would hang out, the grocery store that sold the same things every season, the school surrounded by forest which every kid in town attended, but the worst part: everyone knew each other. Or, so we thought.June seventh, ironically the fifteenth birthday of his younger brother, Killua Zoldyck, Illumi Zoldyck died in mystery, leaving the entire town in shambles. And with each investigation, secrets rise to the surface, the people we thought we knew now revealing every possible corner of themselves.I guess the real challenge is: who can hide who they are the best?"
Relationships: Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, Kurapika & Leorio Paladiknight, Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Comments: 22
Kudos: 55





	1. It Began With Fear

**Author's Note:**

> This is Savannah Rea! (Also known as The_gReat_Snail on Wattpad) This is a new story that I will be publishing more frequently than the rest because I'm not writing as I go--I completed many chapters in advance. I only hope this satisfies expectations.
> 
> Enjoy!

" **T** ragedy brings people together, while chaos tears them apart. The truth becomes a fantasy, lies said to be the truth. And we learn that individuals only believe what they want to hear, so then we wonder, are we lying for others, or are we lying for ourselves? And amid society's order burrows a sleeping beast of selfish desire, an animal who only wakes to destroy morality; a monster that's in every one of us though for some, it may hide a bit deeper in the cave, but it can always be lured out.

Padokea is a small town. You had the local restaurant where everyone would hang out, the grocery store that sold the same things every season, the school surrounded by forest which every kid in town attended, but the worst part: everyone knew each other. Or, so we thought.

June seventh, ironically the fifteenth birthday of his younger brother, Killua Zoldyck, Illumi Zoldyck died in mystery, leaving the entire town in shambles. And with each investigation, secrets rise to the surface, the people we thought we knew now revealing every possible corner of themselves. But as for me? The biggest mystery yet—a newcomer to this town, arriving only a month ago before school began, and already I had committed to something dangerous, _risky_.

The story began with a death-- followed by a group of four individuals that are all opposite from one another. A rich boy, whom everyone demised, that ended up as the kindest of them all, another boy: raised in a cozy household, the newfound captain of the football team, a truthful, positive junior who everyone loved, but homed the most vicious beast of them all, an honest man: his life merely unfortunate, and me: captivated by a goal, living amongst the shadows and the neighboring individuals who lurk there as well.

I guess the real challenge is: who can hide who they are the best?"

Kurapika let out a sigh and closed the google doc. He ran his slender fingers through his scruffy, blonde bangs, leaning back to rest his head on the scarlet leather seats of Masadora.

"Hey, Kurapika!"

He squinted his eyes to find Leorio waving in his signature navy suit, "hello, Leorio."

"It's rare to find you in such a public place. I see you're picking up writing again." The man sat down in the booth across from him, signing to a waitress.

Kurapika jolted up, hissing, "Leorio, we can't be seen together! The entire school comes to this restaurant!"

The biology teacher frowned, and Kurapika pushed down the guilt. _This is the way it has to be._

An illegal affair.

They met with foolish naivety, but Kurapika can't bring himself to regret it. He could still remember so vividly the dizzy heat of midsummer, his backpack of every belonging he owned, and the dry grass tickling his ankles. He remembers an old fashioned car pulling up and an attractive man with sunglasses shading his eyes, asking, "Do you need a ride? It's dangerous to be alone in this part of town." The man flipped his glasses up, revealing the most honest golden eyes Kurapika had ever encountered. No ill-intentions, no lies, nothing but pure kindness. Kurapika nodded, throwing his bag in the front seat and buckling his seatbelt.

"Leorio."

"Kurapika." He smiled in return.

"Where do you live?"

The blonde shrugged, "Anywhere that has a roof."

"You're homeless?" Concern laced Leorio's voice.

Kurapika looked down, bangs shading his eyes, "I chose this life."

"Well, I'm happy to assist whenever. It's always nice seeing someone new in this desolate town."

"Yeah."

And then later that night— thunder crackling, lightning flashing like a broken lightbulb, and the rain abusing the roof's shingles. A trail of abandoned clothing leading to the destination of Leorio's bed, the wet lips on his, the kisses down his jaw, his neck, his chest, his lips again, and all the while Kurapika held on _tight_ , wanting to feel an emphasized connection of the feeling he noticed when he hopped in that brown Station Wagon.

It was far from a one night stand, they weren't friends with benefits, nor were they in a relationship, but everything fell into utter horror when Kurapika's assigned AP biology teacher walked through those classroom doors, wearing his usual circular glasses, and a briefcase in-hand.

It was none other than Leorio Paradinight, "Good morning, class! Welcome to the first day of AP biology! I hope all-" He dropped the piece of chalk in his right hand, white dust powdering the floor.

Their eyes met, and Kurapika couldn't quite pinpoint if it was fear dispersing into those irises of gold or sadness. It was one moment of realization that lasted an eternity—it was the moment they realized, despite this entire summer, they didn't know each other at all.

Forty-five minutes never lasted so long in his entire life. The bell rang, and students rushed to their next class. Kurapika packed up slowly to prevent suspicion, and when the coast was clear, they immediately turned to one another, talking over each other, "You've claimed you were a doctor?!" And him exclaiming, "you're underage?!"

Leorio rubbed his temples, "I decided to teach to get extra money." His voice lowered, "our lives are ruined if anyone finds out. So how old are you, kid?"

"Seventeen, and I swear to God if you call me a kid one more time. It just makes this whole situation worse. And I could ask the same question."

"Twenty. I graduated early. More importantly, I could get arrested for this."

Kurapika crossed arms, focusing his gaze on anything but the man in front of him, "it was both our mistakes. A bad one."

"Kurapika," his tone changed, less frantic and more remorseful, "where is your family? How are you attending this school without a residence?"

The blonde clenched his fists, red clouding his vision, "my family is _dead_." His biggest regret: not being there when it mattered.

Leorio winced.

Get a hold of yourself, Kurapika. "Apologies, I received an academic scholarship. I moved here because something is off about this town, and I _won't_ stop until I find an answer."

"What about-?"

"I'll get out of your house by tonight. I won't come back. It's...better that way." It's the right thing to do, but why did Kurapika's heart drop with each word?

Leorio's voice cracked, "Y-yeah."

So later that night, he packed his bags and scurried out the door.

The biology teacher stood leaning against the pale wall, a nearby candle flickering, "back to living in arbitrary shelters?"

"I chose this life, remember?"

Leorio ambled closer until he was too close, "You're sure a survivor."

Kurapika hummed in response, concurrently attempting the ease down the shivers brought upon Leorio's minty breath fanning his skin. "See you around, Leorio."

"That's Mr. Paradinight to you."

Kurapika laughed and left with a wave.

He blinked back to the present when a familiar quarterback slammed the doors open when his signature toothy grin and Killua Zoldyck aside him, wearing athletic gear and hair blindingly white. Leorio still sat at the booth, having no time to leave before his schoolmates arrived.

"Kurapika!" Gon waved, "Oh, what are you doing here, Mr. Paradinight?"

Killua's smile dropped, a skeptical gaze wandering back and forth between Kurapika and Leorio.

_He knew_.

"I asked Mr. Paradinight for some feedback on the evidence I found a few hours ago."

"Y-yeah." Leorio stuttered, and Kurapika mentally vowed to throw him off Kukuroo Mountain later.

The two juniors nodded and sat at the far corner table.

"Well, should we take a look at that evidence?" asked Leorio.

"I guess we should." He reopened his computer and clicked on Google Docs. "Anyone and everyone could be the possible terminator, so I fabricated a list of all the residents in Padokea..."

 _Tragedy, chaos; risk_.

But let's start at the beginning.


	2. It Ended in Tragedy

  
  
  
  


" **E** ven the Freecss family had their fair share of mysteries. Ging Freecss, probably the most well-known face of the town besides Silva Zoldyck, was a legendary team captain of the football team, valedictorian, leader of clubs national-wide, and accepted into multiple Ivy League colleges, only to go missing the day before graduating high school. Everyone who knew him assumed Ging's disappearance was his own doing. It's just who he was: a free spirit by nature. Mito Freecss was Ging's cousin, a remarkable woman who suffered from her parents' death caused by a car accident, experiencing the dread of abandonment a second time when Ging vanished. In addition, the entire family was raised under Grandmother Abe Freecss. When word spread that Ging returned, the whole town came to visit, even the Zoldycks, but when they arrived, Ging had already disappeared the night prior and left his child behind in the Freecss family's care. Since Mito was a lawyer, receiving custody was as simple as breathing. 

And that's how we arrive at Gon Freecss: a spitting image of his father but with an optimistic personality that attracted others to him like a magnet. Within a year of high school, he already became captain of the varsity football team and the backbone to all motivation of the entire school. He may have not had the academic intelligence of his father, but his talent in motor memory was evident. No one could withstand his eccentric aura, not even the infamous Killua Zoldyck.

Gon didn't understand why everyone avoided him, but never would he forget the scarlet blush on the Zoldyck's cheeks when Gon spoke to him for the first time. 

It was their first day of varsity football, and in the locker room, accommodated the most stunning boy Gon had ever seen. His porcelain skin blushed rose, accentuating all the perfect edges of his built body, his hair, shimmering a fluorescent white with streaks of a silver fox highlighting the frame of his face, and then his piercing sapphire eyes lurking behind thick, black eyelashes-- it's as if the boy put Gon under an ensorcell that lured him closer, closer until he could see moisture of sweat on his abdomen. 

Closer until Gon Freecss came tripping into Killua Zoldyck's life.

The Zoldyck pulled down the rest of his jersey, staring the culprit dead in the eye, "What the hell? Go away."

Gon scrambled until he stood up straight, noticing that Killua towered a few inches taller, "Damn, I'm clumsy. 'Guess that's why I play football and not soccer," he laughed, "you know, your hair is really pretty. It's like an arctic fox!" He remained smiling as Killua's eyes flitted back and forth between Gon's gaze.

"Uh." Pink dust dappled across Killua's cheeks, suddenly less menacing. 

Gon noticed the number six plastered on Killua's indigo jersey, "Ah, number six, so you're the other quarterback. I bet-"

"Kil, you promised the family that attending high school wouldn't...distract you." A ravenette emerged, tall and lanky, hair reaching down to his ankles, and face: soft but terrifying, all at once. His gaze narrowed at Gon, “be out on the field in three minutes. _You_." 

Gon pointed to himself, unsure, "me?"

"Yes. Our quarterbacks graduated last year, so they are replaced by you and Kil. Follow his lead at all times, but both of you are under my instruction. This is a sport that brings honor to the Zold-" he cleared his throat, "to the school's reputation. Minimize _distractions_."

Gon watched with furrowed eyebrows as the team captain left. 

Manipulative. That was the first impression Gon gathered from Illumi Zoldyck. It's almost as if every decision was not his own-- like _he_ was manipulated. No, not that. The entirety of Illumi Zoldyck's purpose revolved around _the family_ , _the family's reputation_ , but selfish desires played a role there as well no matter how 'loyal' he posed to the Zoldycks. His moral compass was the true manipulator.

"Don't talk to me again." Killua shoved past him.

But little did he know, Gon was immune to Killua's icy aura.

  
  


And then the day came, the fourth practice, when Killua tripped while in possession of the ball. 

"Killua, off the field!"

"But Big Brother, someone tripped-"

"Take responsibility for your actions. I thought I taught you to not blame others? Get off the field!"

"Tch," Killua shoved his hands in his pockets, glaring at the blonde dork responsible for tripping him. 

Gon stood there, troubled. Nevertheless, he turned to Illumi Zoldyck, "you saw that someone tripped him. So why punish him?"

Illumi smirked, "quarterbacks need to be swift at dodging, but sauntering timidly burdens the entire team. I won't be responsible for a hopeless case." 

"He's your brother!" The whole team eyed Gon, shaking their head as some sort of warning to not indulge, so he calmed himself, unclenching his fists that turned white from friction. He lowered his voice, "I have to go study for algebra. See you next practice." He turned his back towards the team and began walking to the locker room. He saw nothing but the narrow path of monitored undergrowth and the grey sky. Mud sloshed with each heavy step and nearly climbed to his ankles, but he didn't care.

"Leave without permission, and I'll bench you next game." 

His voice: controlling as if they were nothing but mere flies, servants to serve the master’s will. He hated it.

Gon halted, blood pressure immediately rising. He remembered his aunt's words: _the strongest people withhold from anger._

He took a deep breath and took another step forward. 

When Gon arrived at the boy’s locker room, he slammed open the metallic door. Killua tore off the bandages around his muddied arms and glanced at Gon, glowering, "what're doing here?"

Gon shrugged, fumbling with the combination to open his locker, which neighbors Killua's. "I guess they won't have any quarterbacks next game."

Killua's eyes widened, "Illumi benched you?"

"He was being a jerk, so I left. I didn't want to give him any taste of victory."

Killua burst into laughter. He entwined his fingers into his ivory locks and flicked his bangs back, "You're crazier than I imagined!"

Gon's heart leaped.

Killua shut his locker, leaning his back against it, hands still in the pockets of his Adidas, and bright blue eyes staring at the tile floor with a solemn gaze, "Still, my parents are going to kill me when I get home." He paused for a melancholy moment and sucked in a portion of air, "Your name is Gon, right?"

Gon nodded. 

Killua tilted his head back against the locker, eyes now fixed on the ceiling, and Gon stared at the gifted sight of his flawless side profile and his adam's apple ever-so-slightly bobbing as he spoke, "Thank you, though. Not many people fight a Zoldyck, let alone defend one." 

Another silence. 

Ever since Gon had been capable of speech, everyone would always say how much of a ‘ _people person_ ’ he was or how he could ‘ _get along with anyone_ ’, but in truth, he didn’t understand them. He didn’t understand their fear-based mind derived from stereotypes. Gon had asked that question in science. ‘ _Trial and error_ ’ is what the teacher said in response. Gon disagreed. Experience had nothing to do with it. Only fear of the unknown. Only excuses selfishly proclaimed to avoid an unnecessary troublesome event in their lives. There was Illumi: one of the many Zoldycks that created a stereotype, and then there was Killua: the one who suffered from it. 

"Do you... want to sleep at my house tonight?"

Killua whipped his head to face Gon incredulously.

"You said your family would hurt you, and it won't bother my household. They'd love to help you."

Killua paused for a moment, authenticating Gon's offer. The unreadable emotion pooling in his azure irises that would glance left, right, then left again. His adam's apple bobbed once more, billowy tank top crinkling from the forceful air conditioner; thin hairs around his face lifting as well. And while the examination was merely seconds, the fluorescent lights above only flickering twice, it was that one pause that crumbled Killua's titanium barrier of self-loathing. 

A mischievous grin curled Killua's flushed lips, "wanna sneak out right now?"

“Aunt Mito would kill me.” Gon sweatdropped, mind reeling to all the endless possibilities of occurrences within his aunt’s wrath. 

“Hmm, I know of a place in the forest. It’s an abandoned treehouse that remained in decent shape. Trust me, I’ve been going there for years, and not once had someone showed up.”

“Oh, the treehouse on the willow tree in the clearing of Hatsu river? I was told my dad built it! Though, I only visited it a couple of times. I guess it always felt a bit lonely by myself.” Gon confessed, awkwardly scratching the hairline on his neck.

“So, do you want to...you know?” Killua averted his gaze, the tip of his sneakers tapping the grey, tile floor nervously, seemingly too embarrassed to display excitement over someone he just met.

Gon bounced, “Okay, let’s race!” A toothy grin stretched the corners of his mouth. 

Killua chuckled, “You’re like a young kid. Besides, I think we both know I’m faster than you.”

“You don't know that!”

Suddenly, Killua perked up, “Illumi is coming!”

Gon jerked his gaze towards the door. He stared intently, never averting, awaiting fearfully, nothing but silence remained with an exception to the occasional branches scratching the tin roof.

That’s when he realized his mistake. 

Killua tricked him.

And he fell for it. 

_That. Cheating. Bastard._

Gon scurried out the door, whipping his backpack across one shoulder, and bolting across the parking lot, Killua’s running figure blurring in the foggy distance. Mud inside his socks slushed uncomfortably with each step, textbooks and school supplies rattled, bouncing up and down within his emerald backpack, and his airy voice clashed against the wind as he yelled, “Killuaaaaaaa, no fair!”

The teen ahead turned back for a moment, squinting his sharp eyes and whimsically peeking out his pinkish tongue. 

But Gon knew the forest better than anyone.

Killua threw himself at the floor, sweaty, panting through every syllable, and an infrequent smile presenting his flawlessly aligned teeth, “Never-” He broke into laughter, throwing his arm over his forehead and covering his eyes, “...never had I seen someone hop through trees faster than a squirrel. I mean, a squirrel for christ's sake!” Killua chortled once again.

“What can I say? I’m a man of many surprises.” Gon replied.

The white-haired teen sat up, “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

The panting and laughter dwindled, now only left with waking crickets’ buzz and distant wolves’ night call. Each wooden plank of the withered treehouse struggled against the afternoon breeze, humidity from the nearby river giving off the overall vibe of complete stagnation, the sweat on their bodies neither dying nor producing. And the strange feeling within the shared space--like Gon and Killua had known each other for centuries, like how they didn’t ask any of the socially constructed introductory questions because they didn't need to, or how it was just as simultaneously easy to both remember and forget. 

An old lantern with decaying bugs at the base and moths flying towards the light, as a lemming would with water, stationed in the middle, a mock layout of a group of boy scouts sharing presumingly terrifying tales with each and every story beginning with, ‘ _it was a dark and stormy night_ ,’ and while the purpose is to scare others away, it really served as getting closer, closer to each other, closer to a semblance of friendship. It felt as carefree as summer vacation, neither of them giving a damn about the dreadfully uncomfortable climate, and neither of them living in the past nor striving towards the future. Summer vacation revealed the deceiver of _‘living the Padokean Dream,_ ’ as so many subconsciously yearn for, but that’s simply a dream. Nothing more. 

Gon’s eyes met Killua’s wondering stare, his curiosity keeping him both quiet and itching to speak; his curiosity of who Killua Zoldyck truly was, not the marionette of his family’s corrupt desires, not the insecurity at the front of his mind speaking with caution, but the raw, honest version of the quarterback sitting right in front of him with his snowy bangs sticking to his forehead and sweat glistening on his flexed shoulders as he leaned back on his elbows, hair flowing backward under the instruction of gravity. It also made Gon wonder about himself. 

Killua sighed, achingly rolling on his side in an attempt to get up, “It’s getting late.”

“You know, I meant it when I said you could spend the night at my house.” Interjected Gon off-beat, too quickly; _too desperately._

Killua froze, “Y-yeah,” he looked at the floor, a small smile on his face,” that wouldn’t be half bad.”

Supernatural powers don’t exist Or, so everyone says, but Gon is absolutely positive Aunt Mito wielded the undeniability of godly hearing for specifically footsteps because _no one_ should be able to distinctly label who’s in the halls by merely a single footstep (let alone hearing that singular footstep from her room, that was essentially on the second floor, and the wooden floor being, surprisingly, not creaky). But he had to admit, Gon had never seen someone soundlessly duck so fast under a pile of laundry until Killua scrambled akin to a horrified cat when Aunt Mito came stomping downstairs with her hands on her hips, “Gon Freecss, It’s your second week of high school and you’re already coming home past curfew!”

Gon bowed apologetically, “Sorry, Aunt Mito, I met up with a friend.”

“A ‘ _friend_ ’, and it was probably a girl,” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with exhaustion, “I won’t limit you. High school is something special, but please, try to make curfew.”

Gon’s entire face lit up, “Okay, I promise to do better!” He watched his guardian once again walk to her bedroom. 

Killua poked his head out, a sock draping off the side of his head, scrunching his nose when peeling it off him and dusting the germs off his poofy hair. 

Gon put a finger to his lips in a hushing manner.

Killua rolled his eyes and ambled silently, as if he weighed no more than a feather, on the dark, wooden floor. He followed Gon’s every step until they reached his bedroom. After allowing Killua in, Gon shut the door with a click, “Okay, it’s safe to whisper now.”

Killua nodded as he meandered across the room, eyes darting from floor to ceiling, and fingers curiously grazing the quilted sheets on Gon’s bed. He sat down on the corner of the bed with hesitance.

Gon leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and smirking. 

Killua turned to him, bemused, “Did you want me to praise you on your decorating sense or something? Your expression reminds me of an idiot who thinks they’re about to get laid.” He snickered, but Gon ignored it, “Nope, I’m just happy we didn’t get caught.”

“You’re just lucky I know how to sneak around, _unlike_ you,” Killua rolled his eyes, but the tone in his voice carried more fondness than bite. “You seem like the type of guy who always does things without thinking it through.”

“Ah, you caught me,” Gon awkwardly laughed. He drifted toward the bed, finally taking a seat next to Killua, slightly wincing when the mattress squeaked. Behind Killua was a large square window facing the forest. The rising moon shone through, illuminating Killua and accentuating the perfections of his face, his hair, his body, _his lips—_ Gon snapped out of his trance. 

“Are you sure you won’t regret having me stay?”

_Killua. He truly does blame himself for everything._

“Yeah,” Gon whispered, “I may not think things through, but I know what I want.”

The boy next to him flopped backward, milky hair fanning out against a pillow, “I guess, I’m jealous of that. My family wants me to learn as many skills as possible so I have the capability of being anything and everything,” He smiled--a pained smile that made Gon’s chest ache, “but I’m nothing. It sounds pathetic, I know-”

“No,” Gon interrupted, “I may have not experienced that exactly, but I do understand it.” He laid on his side, watching Killua, their distance from each other not too far nor too close. An owl sang from a distance, but everything else seemed muted under the dark sky and the lonesome moon. 

Killua broke the silence, words muffled due to half of his face being squished into a pillow, “Do you invite friends over often?”

“You’re the first.”

His blue eyes widened, “but always have so many others around you…especially girls.” He speculated, raising his eyebrows. 

“Hmm, maybe, I guess they’re all acquaintances. We talk, but that’s it. No common interests, no insight of life outside of school, _nothing.”_ He paused, ”and with girls, I kinda stopped paying attention to them when all of _those things_ began to matter.” Gon waved his hands around to somehow indicate _‘those things’_.

Killua sighed airily, “well that’s one conversation out of the way. You don’t seem...er-”

“Gay,” Gon finished. He laughed awkwardly, “I haven’t told many others. I always figured it never really mattered, but I know it can make others uncomfortable-”

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

This time it was Gon who was taken aback. He felt a warm smile form on his lips.

They sat in silence, the longest yet, but the passing of time didn’t feel rushed nor frantic, just comfortable in each others’ presence.

“Thank you, Gon.” 

Gon's eyes shot open, but all possibilities of a response died on his tongue upon seeing Killua’s eyes closed and drifting off to sleep. 

“No, thank _you_ , Killua.” Gon whispered ever-so-softly. He when smiled noticing a small blush appeared on the lighted portion of Zoldyck’s face. 

  
  
  


~*~

  
  


Nearly every day, the two freshmen left school a few minutes early and met at the abandoned treehouse near the rippling lake until the moon’s wake. They never had many serious conversations, and they didn’t find it necessary. That first night was enough--them _together_ was enough. 

But even that came with difficulties. 

“Killua, what’s wrong? You’ve been less sarcastic all day.”

Killua jabbed Gon in the side. 

Gon recoiled, a bellowing laugh rendering him immobile for a solid minute. Even Killua cracked a smile, eventually. 

They sat with crossed legs on the unsanded, wooden floor of the treehouse, still in their football jersey, and Gon’s math papers littered across the ground, symbolic that he had no clue why an alphabet letter was in a math problem. He scratched his head, staring at the inequality in utter distraught.

Killua picked up a nearby pencil off the gritty floor, writing down steps to solve the math problem. He sighed, “I’m going to a boarding camp this summer because my family wants me to skip a year of high school.” 

“That’s possible?”

Killua shrugged, “If you take the course, summer, winter, spring—the timing is irrelevant. 

Gon pouted, “we won’t be graduating the same year then, huh?” 

There was a pause before he received a response, “yeah,” answered Killua. 

Not either one of them spoke afterward. Neither of them looked at each other and both were frozen in the moment of dread and disappointment. It also made Gon feel weak. Weak, because of his status as a child. Children had no power over adults’ decisions— decisions that are akin to a declaration of war made by higher-status individuals and the innocent paying for their reckless opinions and fruitless cravings. It was that _singular_ decision that stuck like an obsidian fortification; that no matter how hard Gon tried, he would never be able to break it down. 

“Wait, I have an idea!” 

Gon perked up. 

“I can tutor you so that you can take an exam to test out sophomore year. That way, we could be in the same grade as each other!” 

It was rare for Killua to be the optimist when Gon struggled to find the bright side. It was rare for Gon to take Killua’s place as a realist. Yet here he is, staring at the extensive amount of math assignments littering the floor. A profound feeling of hopelessness coursed through him. Getting a year ahead in math? Yeah right, he couldn’t even pass algebra one! “Killua-“

Killua interrupted with a glint in his eyes, “every day, after school, we meet here, no matter what. This time, however, there’s no playing around. We study, and that’s it.” He concluded.

Gon raised his eyebrows.

“What do you say?” 

He grinned raising his fist to Killua, “to graduating together year twenty twenty-two!” 

The Zoldyck bumped his fist against Gon’s “yeah!” 

  
  
  


~*~

  
  
  


From that point on, their everyday hangouts morphed into rigorous study sessions that consisted of Killua calling him a moron and snapping his fingers _more-frequently-than-normal_ to capture Gon’s constant drifting attention, and even though math was involved, it easily became Gon’s favorite time of the day. He would stare as Killua would fluently write the steps of an equation, wondering how numbers could flow so fluidly in his mind, him tucking his delicate fingers behind those feathery locks, and the way his black lashes would flutter when something particularly tricky caught his eye. He would watch as Killua bit his lip ever-so-often, his pencil tapping a simple-metered rhythm, the memory of a distant melody escaping his lips with a hum. 

Until it was the night before graduating freshman year.

They decided to study at Gon’s house on the bench connected to his large, round, bedroom window. The sky transitioned into a somber shade of pink, dusting the puffy clouds. A robin perched itself on precarious branches with neither fear nor concern, scarlet feathers ruffling in-

“Gon!” Killua waved his hand in front of his face, “Earth to Gon Freecs! This is our last night before-“

Gon interrupted him, “you’re leaving right after school tomorrow?” He frowned. 

“Yeah,” replies Killua, his voice equally solemn. 

They sat in silence, a wavering wordless agreement to look out the window with a hopeful, but lost gaze. Gon didn’t want to only rely on hope, “Killua?” 

“Hmm?”

“Are you spending the night?”

The Zoldyck sucked in a deep breath, “do you want me to?”

“...yeah.” Gon’s amber gaze traced Killua, mouth slightly agape, and eyebrows furrowing with an incomprehensible emotion. 

Suddenly, Gon’s gaze was met by Killua’s. The sound of Mito chopping vegetables resonated from the floor below—the only sound in the room of solitude. “I’m sorry, Gon, I don’t think I could get away with sleeping at your house tonight.”

“Maybe-“

Killua shook his head, cutting off all hope of what Gon would say next because it didn’t matter. They couldn’t stretch time, and that was reality. He wilted, succumbing to the melancholy silence.

His eyes chose to trail Killua in wonder as the said person neatly stacked the papers before them, tucking a pencil behind his ear, and pinkish tongue swiping over rosy chapped lips. A feeling of want and desire aggressively unraveled in his lower stomach, twisting and churning and bubbling until it demanded all attention. Gon’s hungry gaze set all focus to Killua’s soft-looking lips. He let out a heady sigh. _Tempting, tempting, tempting_. 

“Maybe we could review—hmph?!”

Before Gon could even process it himself, he lunged forward, forcefully kissing Killua. The roughness of the edges and the epitome of softness against his lips— he awaited in fear, _desperately hoping_ for Killua’s tense frame to relax beneath him, _wishing_ that the sweet-tasting lips beneath him would respond the way he wanted them to. 

Gon froze, eyes squeezed shut, and absolutely _mortified_ when Killua slowly raised his arms with hesitance. All the while, he could only think, _Killua is going to push me away, he is going to push me away, he is going to-_

Killua’s responding lips kissing back fervently silenced all of Gon’s worries. Slender fingers trailed from Gon’s leathery skin to his thick, ebony locks, _tugging_ a fistful of hair. Gon parted for breath, staring as Killua’s eyes fluttered open, cheeks redder than ever. “Gon-”

Gon interrupted him a second time, pushing his lips harder against the other with more confidence. He stood on all fours, looming over the Zoldyck, his teeth gently tugging his bottom lip, and his arms had Killua securely placed on the small cushion of the bench adjacent to the windowsill. Killua’s hands slipped on the stack of math papers when he ruved his back outwards and scattered them all over the wooden flooring. 

The kiss was far from perfect. The rhythm was non-existent, and Gon came off too strong. But the _raw desire_ behind it all had him eager to continue. Continue to lick the gentle seems of Killua’s lips, continue to _feel_ the soft, unblemished skin of Killua’s cheek smashed against his nose, continue to dig for the barely audible squeaks and groans; continue to have Killua under him, always. Since they were best friends, Gon always saw Killua as, well...his, in a way. 

Killua smiled the kiss; the blush in Gon’s cheeks deepened. He felt Killua tug at the collar of his shirt, nimble fingertips fumbling with the buttons of the other’s button-up shirt. Gon let out a heavy sigh against the Zoldyck’s nape.

“Boys, it’s time for dinner!” Mito’s voice rang from downstairs.

Killua jumped off Gon like he was made of fire, tripping Gon in the process, and them both landing on the floor with a heavy _thud._

“Fuck,” Killua cursed, blowing the bangs out of his eyes. 

Gon miserably groaned a response. 

Aunt Mito slammed open the door, “what on Earth happened here? Come along, dinner is 

getting cold.” 

  
  
  
  


That was the last normal memory Gon had before summer came. Before _he_ changed. But what can he say? Life doesn’t always go as planned. 

  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I can't believe how much love I'm getting for this story, despite it being only the first few chapters. Thank you all <33


	3. A Fortune? Maybe So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diving into the life of Killua Zoldyck!

**K** illua’s been a liar his whole life. Everyone seemed to like him better when he lied. When telling the truth, he’s accused of being overly pessimistic, unapproachable; aloof. But then came Gon. The quarterback brimmed with honest positivity even when simply passing through the halls. Teachers favored him, flocks of students huddled around him at all times, and he was the only boy  _ ever _ to look past Killua’s distant demeanor. Everyone loved Gon’s honesty,  _ Killua _ loved Gon’s honesty, but no one liked Killua’s truth. 

On the last day of freshman year, Killua did nothing but stare off into space. Despite not even leaving for camp yet, he already began reminiscing his time with Gon, feeling too much of it was wasted--too much of it wasted on the things that didn’t matter. He knew he’d curse at himself later for wasting that moment, too. He’s at school, maybe he could ask to go to the bathroom and search for Gon? No, that’d seem desperate.

But he  _ felt  _ desperate.

Killua’s lips still tingled at the memory of Gon’s chapped ones moving roughly against his. He clenched the hem of his shirt at the memory, already becoming flustered. What would have happened if they didn’t get interrupted? His blush deepened. Slapping a palm over his face and sighed, ‘ _ No, thinking about it won’t help _ .’ It’ll only make time feel more painful. 

And leaving  _ was _ painful, _ horrifically  _ painful.

Hours blurred together until he was sent to the office to be picked up early. His parents and Illumi took him home, watching over him as he packed. “No distractions,” his mother warned over and over again. “It’s critical you do good in your classes to receive the credit. Anything under a ninety-eight will simply not do.”

Killua’s response was always the same, “I will.”

“Call me if you need any help, but no one outside the family,” said Illumi.

“I will.”

He never would’ve guessed that would be the last thing he said to his eldest brother. 

Before he knew it, he’s getting on a first-class plane and watching through the small, circular window as it took flight, leaving everything behind, leaving _ Gon _ behind. He clutched the bracelet around his wrist, grinning sadly. 

He remembers when Gon showed up earlier that day with a present in his hands.

“What’s this all about?” Killua asked.

Gon smiled, “It’s something I got for Killua as a goodbye present.”

_ Goodbyes _ . He normally loved goodbyes because they meant leaving things behind, and Killua wanted to leave many things behind, but he hated goodbyes when they involved Gon. 

“Go on, open it!”

Killua smiled, reluctantly undoing the silver ribbon. He tore the wrapping paper neatly, unlike he usually does. Something in him wanted to enjoy the moment, every moment with Gon. He picked up a simple black bracelet, a bit confused.

“It’s a bracelet for distant lovers,” as if suddenly realizing what this meant for the both of them, Gon began awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, self-conscious. “You don’t have to wear it, but when I saw it, I immediately thought of Killua!”

A blush erupted on Killua’s face.

Gon stepped forward, slowly wrapping the bracelet around Killua’s thin wrist.  _ Such a caring touch.  _ Gon lifted his sleeve, revealing an identical bracelet of his own. He pressed a button, and Killua’s bracelet softly buzzed. “When it buzzes, it’s to show that the other person is thinking about you.” he grinned, and Killua nearly teared up right then and there. 

Killua’s lip quivered at the memory. He rested his head on the cushiony headrest, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing sleep to take him away. Suddenly, the bracelet vibrated against his knee. Eyes widening, he slowly put the gift to his chest, filling his heart with warmth as if Gon were still next to him.

This needed to happen, Killua told himself. If he’d stayed with Gon during summer, Gon wouldn’t have the chance to experience a life of his own, a life without Killua clinging to him every moment of the way. Though it was painful to admit, Killua needed this for himself, too. 

  
  


~*~

Every day Killua woke up, attended classes, and studied. It was brain-numbing. The bracelet buzzed less each passing day to the point where it stood silent. One night, he laid on the bed sideways, staring off into the abyss. It was then, he felt truly alone because he now had something  _ to _ miss. Instead of counting sheep to sleep, he counted days, hours even, until he would return to Padokea, and then he’d wonder what he’d do first. Would he meander the grassy riverside with Gon? Would they tell stories or wrestle in the abandoned treehouse? Or maybe, they would lay together on Gon’s bed, sharing precious moments with one another by telling something about themselves, or maybe they wouldn’t speak at all. 

Yet, something in Killua feared that when he returned, nothing would be the same. Something could’ve changed while he was stuck studying, and he never would’ve had even the slightest clue. 

And something did change, something unimaginable, something that started a chain reaction of change. 

Gotoh, a Zoldyck butler, picked Killua up from the airport the moment he once again set foot in Padokea. Killua stayed silent on the car ride back, but his mind was screaming with excitement, still debating what he’d do first.  _ Choices. Choices _ . 

Killua kept his composure as he waited for Gotoh to open the door. Mother, Father, and Kalluto stood side-by-side, awaiting in a dignified stance. Mother’s fan quintessentially swayed an unchanging rhythm as if she were a robot. Kalluto, a bit bigger than he remembered, clung to her side. “Welcome home, Kil,” Mother said.

“I see nothing has changed,” Killua remarked.

Suddenly, everyone tensed, but Killua shrugged it off at the time. After a short hike to reach the front door, Killua decided he’d stay in his room until summoned to dinner.  _ And then, he’d sneak off into the night to Gon. _

His room didn’t change a bit. The dark wooden floor still sat newly polished, and the scarlet rug still reflected the chandelier’s light. In the middle of his room was a king-sized bed encased by a metal bed frame with intricate patterns lining the headboard. Lamps with black-lace shades rested on his two wooden nightstands, and transparent, shaded curtains draped over the window, the fabric piling on the ground. Sighing, Killua yanked open the curtains. He hated how dark his room was, and the black and scarlet color theme didn’t help. He insisted, in the past, that he should be able to choose the decor in his room, but his parents disagreed without any room for consideration--not that their response surprised Killua in any form. 

Killua’s mind blanks as he lets his back fall on his bed.  _ An entire summer _ . Surely, Gon looks different. Killua’s teenage growth spurt was rather underwhelming. He expected to inherit the larger build from his father instead of this pathetic slender frame his mother had. He’s a quarterback, for christ’s sake! Regardless, he still packed on some muscle. His eyes wander down his pale, scarred arms as he tensed and contracted his biceps. Sighing, he thinks,  _ I’ll have to workout with Gon before football season hits.  _

At that moment, the black bracelet around Killua’s wrist buzzed against his chest. Warmth blossomed like an autumn flower inside him. He bites the corner of his lip with anticipation, pounds, and pounds of anticipation. It’s only time that stood in the way, now. He’ll wait until the sun hides behind the horizon and the night sky masks all.

Maybe he’ll take some flowers to Aunt Mito. 

_ Wait, that’d be embarrassing. Ugh, stupid! _

It’s something any normal person would do, right?

Shaking his head, Killua decides he’ll pick some daffodils from the front garden. 

Killua folds his arms behind his head as he walks the gloomy halls.  _ Tap, tap, tap _ . It sounded like the floor was made of glass as he ambled the corridors. Just traveling to the front door was far from a quick journey, but when he finally made it, towering glass doors with crystalline chandeliers overhead, Canary stood in his way. “Pardon me, master Killua-”

“Don’t call me that,” Killua glares, but he eventually steps back and lets her continue her message. 

“Dinner is about to be served.”

Killua slouches his shoulders and complains, “Okay,  _ okay! _ Tell mother I’m coming,” and he partially whispers, “It’s awfully convenient how it’s always before I go outside.” Unlike the other butlers, Killua doesn’t direct his annoyance toward Canary, rather, he focuses his negativity towards his family. Canary had good intentions; he knew that. 

It was when the family was together that Killua felt the greatest distance between them. Dinner was one of those times. The cherrywood table was long-- long to the point where the person sitting at one end would have to yell to be heard by the person on the other end, and it was always quiet. Porcelain plates chimed against silver utensils and glasses clinked as they’re lifted for a courtly sip only to be put down a moment later. Killua, despite it being merely the first dinner since he left for boarding school two months ago, was already done with it all. He angrily stabbed his fork and gnawed obnoxiously on the filet mignon taking up his plate.  _ Mito made it better,  _ he decided. 

“Killua, mind your manners,” his mother said, her voice over-the-top as always.

Killua rolled his eyes, talking between mouthfuls, “Where’s big brother Ill?”

Milluki slammed his knife on the table, the knife stabbed through the dinner table and sticking upwards in a slant, “Dammit, brat! Stop disrespecting Momma!”

Father cleared his voice, a sound deeper than no other’s, “That’s enough, Milluki.” He faces Killua, whose eyes are narrowed and completely unfazed by the recent outburst, “Illumi is away taking care of business.”

The entire table goes silent-- no chiming plates or clinking glasses. 

“...Oh,” Killua responds off-beat. 

And for some reason, it was  _ then _ Killua felt the greatest distance between him and his family.

  
  


~*~

  
  
  


Killua put his foot securely where two branches met of the large oak tree outside Gon’s window. It was second nature for him, at this point. His slender fingers grasped the natural indentures of the sturdy bark, and with one quick motion, he hurled his legs over, straddling the thick branch. He then walks on it like a tightrope and steps on the roof. 

A weakened light flickers from the window of Gon’s bedroom.  _ He’s home!  _ A wave of happiness washes over Killua. 

With a burst of confidence, he taps on the window.  _ Tap, tap, tap.  _

“Killua?” He hears, but the voice is much deeper than he remembers. “Is that you?” He hears again. 

Now more curious than anything, Killua hooks his fingers at the base of the window and opens it. “Hello?” He asks with reluctance, “Gon?” Killua peeks his head inside and gingerly steps into the bedroom. 

That’s when he sees him. 

And it was his first realization of  _ change _ . 

Gon no longer wore his signature green color that Killua always saw him in. Instead, it was all black, his hair color standing out that much more. His eyes, no longer a golden brown, now swirled into a dark amber. Arms, shoulders, torso, all noticeably bulked up, and a spider tattoo ran down his shoulder, revealed by his tank top. 

_ A spider. Why a spider? _

__ “Killua!” Gon repeats, and before Killua can meet the other’s gaze, he’s crushed into an embrace, but it’s not as tension-relieving as he might’ve hoped it to be. Perhaps he’s too shocked that  _ Gon _ stood nearly half a foot  _ taller _ than him over the course of three months,  _ not to mention evident strength based on a simple hug alone _ . 

_ Ah, fuck.  _ Gon turned hot. 

Warm breath gusts against Killua’s messy hair, “Killua’s gotten short.” 

_ His speech pattern stayed the same,  _ Killua thinks, biting back a smile. “Idiot, it’s just ‘cuz you got taller!”

Presenting a toothy grin, Gon steps back to stare into Killua’s wandering eyes, “are you back for good this time?”

“Yeah,” he smiles in return, “I’m back for good.”

They stare at each other for a moment too long. It’s Killua who breaks it. 

“So, how was summer school?” Gon asks with a tinge of awkwardness in his voice, frantic.

_ He’s acting weird. _

Signing, Killua folds his arms over his head and stares at the poster above Gon’s bed.  _ Huh, that’s new.  _ “Boring,” Killua replies rather vaguely, but it’s really the only word that belonged in the same sentence as summer school. His lips quirk in a smirk, bemused, “and I see Good Boy Gon Freecss is now turning to the dark side.” 

“Something like that,” he replies, sitting down with a  _ thud _ on the corner of his bed. 

“Oh?~” Killua spurred, but Gon was quick to change the conversation, “Killua,” suddenly, his eyes darken, body stiffened, and face darkened by the shadows, “how are you acting so normal after what happened with Illumi?”

“...W-what?”

  
  
  
  


“What is  _ wrong  _ with all of you?!” Killua smacked down the newspaper that his father was holding, stomping on it, and crumpling it beneath his feet. His father, undaunted, sighed and sipped from his wine glass, “We couldn’t let you get distracted from your school.”

Rage blinded Killua, and it took all of his strength to restrain from shattering that stupid wine glass and stabbing his father with the remaining shards. He bit his lip, drawing blood, “is that all we are?  _ Pawns?! _ How many children will you abandon before we’re all gone?!”

Silva rolled his eyes, “We didn’t abandon Illumi, and there should be no mention of Alluka or Nanika.”

“He’s probably  _ dead!  _ Hasn’t he been missing since June?!” Killua immediately shuts his mouth when the air runs ice-cold.  _ He said too much. _ He clenched his jaw, flinching when his father slammed the glass on the counter, “If he’s dead, then that simply means he wasn’t worthy of inheriting the business.”

_ Worthy? _

_ Worthy?!  _

“That… was never his to decide,” Killua declared, hating how his voice cracked with each word. He thought he hated his brother. He thought- Wetness gathered in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall. He thought he  _ despised _ Illumi for his manipulation, his abuse, his  _ selfishness, _ but there was some semblance of unconditional love left behind-- the memories of Illumi raising him back when his parents wouldn’t, the gentle pats on his small head that meant so many things: endearment, accomplishment, reassurance that is now quite possibly gone forever.

~*~

  
  


On the first day of Junior year, all that everyone spoke of was Illumi’s absence. Students approached Killua left and right, “Did you find your brother?” 

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“At least he won’t be bugging you on the field.”

“Are there any clues leading to Illumi’s killing?”

Killua’s gaze narrowed.  _ Who says he’s dead? _ Common sense answered immediately, crushing the mere thought of hope. 

Gon clung to Killua’s side, or rather, it was the other way around. But now, instead of Killua Zoldyck, infamy at his doorstep and blood cold as ice, he’s poor Killua Zoldyck, known for losing his brother to an entertaining mystery. 

Just like the last day of school Freshman year, everything was a suffocating blur as if he was trapped in an infinite nightmare.

Gon stepped in, shooing everyone away, “give him some space, guys.”

And they did. Everyone listened to Gon; they had every reason to. 

When all of the kids dispersed into their classrooms, it was just Killua and Gon, alone, but their gaze never met. He felt two hands grip his shoulders, spinning him around to face the ravenette’s face and amber eyes that were laced in concern. Gon’s mouth opened like he was about to say something, but then he closed it. 

“Gon-”

Gon interrupts Killua by pulling him into an embrace, one Killua had never experienced  _ quite  _ like this. Gon held on  _ tight _ , finger’s entangling into the wrinkles of Killua’s loose t-shirt and chests pressed flush against each other. That’s when the dam broke. Silent tears dropped one after another on Gon’s jersey as Killua let himself hold onto Gon with everything he had, his grasp firm to keep him from getting away. 

He felt like each tear that dropped brought more confusion, more confusion as to why he’s upset. Didn’t he always want this in some way? For Illumi to simply disappear? Even with Illumi gone, he still felt imprisoned. Only this time, it was his emotions. In the end, what Killua feared most was inevitable. 

The tardy bell rang, snapping Killua out of his emotional trance. 

“Killua,” Gon said, his tone: serious, “are you sure you’re okay?”

Killua responds with no room for hesitation, “I’m fine.”  _ Lies. _

__ He is a liar, after all. 

  
  
  
  


It was only two hours later. Ten o’clock am, during the passing period, Killua heard a girl’s scream pierce the air, and everyone in the courtyard went dead silent. Gon, without hesitation, rushed behind the corner of the building to access the situation. 

Killua rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets.  _ Gon is too nice _ . He waited somewhat impatiently, tapping his foot and fiddling with the loose straps of his backpack. After a minute or so, he checked the time on his phone.  _ What is taking him so long?! _

__ The white-haired boy stomped, tracing Gon’s footsteps, but he immediately halts when seeing a large crowd of students circled something he couldn’t quite make out from this distance. Suddenly, they see Killua and clear a pathway for him. Silent, all of them. 

And that’s when he saw it. 

The corpse of his eldest brother, Illumi Zoldyck. 

His face was somehow paler than it was before, eyes glued shut, and thin lips creased a lifeless white. Killua could instantly tell that his brother was tortured by the yellow bruises and brown scabs that marked his face, his neck, his arms,  _ everywhere. _

__ A chilling wind rustled nearby leaves.

Not a moment later, Killua walked away. 

Somehow, the sight reassured him; he never felt more in control of his emotions. 

School shut down for the week. The police force treated the entire campus as a crime scene. They reported there's no evidence insuring that Illumi died there; instead, they believe he was tortured and killed, later to be dropped off at the school. Why a school? Because the killer wanted to deliver a message. 

“Does your family have any particularly complicated relations that may have led to this disaster?” The police questioned Killua. 

“Too many to count,” is how Killua responded. 

As Killua ambled home that day, he contemplated to himself if he wanted to get involved? Well, either way, he’d get involved.  _ But did he truly want to investigate the cause? _ Maybe he should abandon it like the rest of the family. Maybe-

“ _ Psst!” _

__ Killua stopped in his tracks, skeptically glancing around to see the person responsible. His wandering gaze caught ahold of a dark alleyway. He snickered behind gritted teeth, “I’m not stupid enough to go into a dark alleyway after my brother was just murdered.”

A silence.

Is no one there?

Is he going insane? 

Hell, he wouldn’t doubt it.

Killua took a step forward, then another. 

“Killua Zoldyck?”

The said person whipped his head around, now facing a boy with heavy bags under his eyes and disheveled blonde hair. His clothing looked mangled, but Killua could tell it was considered expensive at one time. Killua glowered, biting his lip, and demanding with a cold stare, “who the hell are you?”

“We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, ah, for starters, I am so sorry to everyone who thought I died. I've been posting my other stories, trying to finish AWWF, but that failed lol. Anyway, I'm not abandoning this work! I still have plans for it, and I'm quite excited hehehee.
> 
> Always feel free to comment your thoughts! x3
> 
> Insta: https://www.instagram.com/that_great_snail/  
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